


i saw you in a dream

by ruinedwords



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Not really hurt, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but very very comforting, its very very soft and stuff, she washes his hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24317557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruinedwords/pseuds/ruinedwords
Summary: His muscles in his back are tense, his hair is matted, his clothes are constantly growing darker in shades, his skin is battered black and blue. He is a shell of the man he was before the war. War changes people. It changes things. It changes feelings.War is loud. War is constant. War is tiring. War is painful. War is chaos.Padmé is quiet. Padmé is consistent. Padmé is energetic. Padmé is soft. Padmé is serene.( or, just padmé taking care of her best boy after an unforgiving war )
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 20
Kudos: 128





	i saw you in a dream

**Author's Note:**

> when they put on their PJS imagine the ROTS nightmare scene ones bc they looked so sexy there... also proofread at 2am so it doesn't even count tbh 
> 
> title is from I saw you in a dream by the japanese house bc that's what i was listening to while writing thanx

It’s always so loud on the battlefield. The sounds are loud, deafening, and obnoxious. They can range from orders being yelled from the Generals to the Clones, from bombs going off due south, from the buzzing of the lightsabers as they clash. As the days go by and the sunsets and rises, Anakin grows weary of the sounds. He grows weary of the constant chaos. He grows tired of the constant fighting. 

It’s exhausting.

His muscles in his back are tense, his hair is matted, his clothes are constantly growing darker in shades, his skin is battered black and blue. He is a shell of the man he was before the war. War changes people. It changes things. It changes feelings.

War is loud. War is constant. War is tiring. War is painful. War is chaos.

Padmé is quiet. Padmé is consistent. Padmé is energetic. Padmé is soft. Padmé is serene.

Padmé is in his arms. Padmé is whispering sweet nothings. Padmé is telling him how much she adores him. How much she loves him. 

Her hand reaches up to his brown locks, matted and dirty. A reminder of what he had come from. The battle he just barely won. The lives sacrificed. She runs her hair through it slowly, like going too fast will hurt him. Like even tugging on a strand of hair wrong will make him cry out in pain. She frowns slightly, the dirt making its way under her fingernails. “Come on, Ani, I’ll help you.” She says. Her voice is light, airy. It’s barely higher than a whisper like she knows of the sounds of war. Like she knows how much Anakin has grown to despise loud noises. 

She drops her hand from his hair, connecting it with Anakin’s own flesh hand. She grabs it gently and he lets her. His flesh hand is dirty and it feels wrong to touch something so beautiful and soft in his calloused and bruised hand. But she pays no mind to it. She simply tugs him ever so slightly towards her Fresher. Anakin smiles tiredly. He’s exhausted and can’t be bothered to properly show emotions but there’s something about her that makes him grin wider than he could ever possibly dream of.

When they reach the Fresher Padmé stops. She turns to face him and smiles up at him, “Come. Let’s make you good as new.” Anakin simply nods, his mouth and voice too tired from the yelling of war. She doesn’t seem to care, turning towards the bath, turning on the water and letting the cool stream to fill the tub. 

The water is calming, the whoosh of the flowing makes Anakin’s muscles relax. The tension leaving some of his body. He could listen to only it for hours. Let the sound whisk him away into a place where it was quiet, where it was peaceful, where it was serene. 

And then it ends. 

And he opens his eyes to Padmé. She’s smiling at him, sitting at the edge of the bath, waiting for him to join in with her. He smiles at her, walking over and slowly stepping into the large bath. It’s grand and a beautiful pattern of white and gold. It’s fit for a senator like herself. The entire Fresher is. It’s bright and beautiful and it’s a stark contrast to the greys and blacks Anakin had been subjected to.

She gets in the tub behind him. On another day with energy, Anakin could see it leading somewhere, maybe. But all thoughts and scenarios are silenced when Padmé whispers in his ear, “Close your eyes.” And Anakin does, no hesitation and no questions. He hears the sound of water whooshing and feels the water hit his head as Padmé wets his hair. He relaxes and lets Padmé continues to douse his head with the water, his hair feeling better than before already.

“Okay, you can open them now,” Padmé says and he does, rubbing at his eyes a little but opening them nonetheless. “I’m going to put the shampoo in, now, okay?” She says softly and he simply nods, the words in his throat not ready to come out. And so she does. He can hear the soft click of the bottle opening and the feeling of the shampoo from Padmé’s hands make its way into his hair.

She starts off slow, simply putting the shampoo onto the first layer of his hair, simply spreading it around his head, making sure not to miss a spot. And then she takes a bit more shampoo and starts lathering it through his roots, massaging the scalp. It’s a slow pace, taking time to let the shampoo get into his roots. 

Anakin’s eyes subconsciously close, letting the feeling of peace and serenity take over his body. Her gentleness is ever so soothing and he can feel his entire body relax in the water and against her chest. He hears her let out a soft giggle and leans down to kiss a patch of skin at his shoulder. She starts leaving more, peppering them all over his shoulders and back, as she continues to massage at his scalp and Anakin can just _feel_ the love radiating from her. 

Eventually, the massage ends and Padmé whispers to Anakin that she’s going to rinse the shampoo out and Anakin barely lets out a hum of acknowledgment. Padmé giggles softly and very slowly washes the shampoo out of his scalp, doing it little by little and taking her time. 

She repeats it again with the conditioner but not taking as long. Anakin feels her left hand playing with some of the hair on the nape of his neck and he feels so in love he cannot believe such emotions exist. He cannot believe the Jedi Order could ban such things when they make him feel this way. His heart is full and ready to burst but in the best way possible.

Padmé seems oblivious to the feelings that are ready to burst out of Anakin as she washes the conditioner out of Anakin’s scalp and moves onto the body soap, starting to scrub Anakin’s back, pushing him out of her chest but only slightly. 

“Anakin?” She questions and Anakin’s eyes open. “Yes, my love?” He says, speaking for the first time in a while. His voice is rough and coarse, his throat feels like sandpaper but she doesn’t seem to care. “Could you turn around?” Is what she asks and Anakin, as tired and relaxed he is, could never deny his Angel this. So he gathers his strength and turns around, looking Padmé in the eye. 

She is beautiful. She has suds of soap in her hair and she isn’t wearing any makeup, but she’s beautiful. She has never looked anything but to Anakin. But she looks so beautiful, now, in the tub with Anakin. Her features are soft and her smile is sparkling. Her skin is as clear the night sky tonight and he feels so utterly in love with the portrait that sits in front of him. 

He feels the bursting feeling tugging at his heartstrings and he just smiles dopily at her. She grins at him and shakes his head before spreading the soap around his chest. He feels relaxed and love, the gentleness of her touch a change to the sharp grasps of war.

He’s used to being hit, to being pushed to his limit, to being battered and bruised. But here he is, in front of the love of his life and her touch is feather-light. He’s used to being thrown around as though nothing could break him. Like he was invincible. But here, with Padmé, she’s touching him as if he could break. Like he was fragile and worth protecting. Like she could protect him. 

And he loves it.

He loves her and he loves this. He loves feeling like she reciprocates like she cares. The softness of her touch is intoxicating and he’s drunk off it already. 

She leans over and plants a soft kiss on his lips and he returns it, leaning into it, his flesh hand reaching up and cupping her cheek. After a few moments pass, she pulls back and leans her forehead against his. His eyes remain shut and he’s stroking her cheek softly. The moment is intimate.

And for that one moment, no one can touch them. There’s no war, there’s no Jedi Order, there’s no senate, there are no expectations, there are no rules being broken, there is only Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala Naberrie. There is only two people in love.

Her hands reach up and start rubbing at his upper arms, massaging them slightly, as though she knew of the tension that was held there. As if she knew what he had to do. As if she was telling him that it was _okay_. That she is giving him her blessing. 

She pulls back and peppers kisses at his neck, his eyes staying shut and letting his hand fall from her cheek to the nape of her neck. Eventually, she pulls back up and kisses him on the lips again. And he lets her. He lets the kiss wash away his worries.

With them there are no worries. There is only them. 

Time passes and the water cools down to a temperature of dislike for the pair and they walk out of the tub, Padmé leading Anakin to her bedroom after they had both dried off. 

In her bedroom, she has their robes and pieces for Anakin and herself laid on her bed. He assumes it was C-3PO’s doing and he smiles fondly at her. She pulls the rob over his shoulder and helps him into a pair of clean, black, pants. They’re soft and thin, unlike the harsh and uncomfortable feeling of his usual armor or Jedi robes. He sits on the edge of the bed as he watches Padmé help herself into a dress.

The dress is blue and beautiful, fit for Padmé in every way shape, and form. There are pearls for the straps and Anakin can’t help but marvel at his wife’s beauty. Her hair is still damp and so is his, reminders of what had just occurred. She turns around and sees the smile on her husband’s face and mirrors it. Her face is contempt and happy, a look that Anakin would do anything to see on her face for the rest of her life.

She walks over and pushes hair behind the shell of his ear, stroking his cheek softly. Anakin looks up at her, his eyes are glossed over and he feels as if he could _cry_. His feelings are bright and burning, ready to burst at any moment. She looks confused by this but just pulls Anakin into a hug, her arms wrapping around his neck. He leans into her touch, grabbing onto her middle and pulling her impossibly closer to his chest and in-between his legs.

Her embrace is warm, soothing, and everything the war isn’t.

The war is unforgiving, cold, and brash. 

She is gentle, warm, and forgiving. She is compassionate. She offers a touch that no one else can. She brings a side out of Anakin that he didn’t know ever existed. 

All his life, touches had been short and harsh. The only warm embrace coming from his mother who was no longer with them. The Jedi Order can’t teach this. The Jedi Order would never know of this feeling, of _love_. Of the overwhelming burst in Anakin’s heart to be a good person. For her. To never disappoint her. 

This can’t be against the rules, can it? To feel her flush against him, to feel the love radiating from her, to be cared for, to be cleaned and massaged. It can’t be illegal for a feeling this strong. The way his heart is beating, the way every single one of his muscles has relaxed. It can’t be wrong, can it?

The war is loud, the war is obnoxious, the war is cold and the war is cruel in ways Anakin can’t even begin to imagine.

Padmé is quiet, she is gentle, she is warm and she is compassionate in ways that Anakin couldn’t even begin to describe. She’s a force to be reckoned with but she _cares_ in ways that Anakin can barely comprehend. 

War is constant but everchanging. It changes people, places, feelings. It can turn people into ugly and greedy bastards. It can grow contempt between friends and lovers. It can destroy places in moments.

But the war will never change Padmé and Anakin. He has sworn by that. Anakin has lost so much. The war has given and taken too much from Anakin. 

The war will not take Padmé Amidala Naberrie.

Anakin grips onto her a little tighter.


End file.
